Seer of Shadows
by Mitslits
Summary: John has heard the stories all his life. Shadows are just whispers of the past, bleeding into the present. He's never believed them. At least, not until the day he woke up and realized he could speak with them.


They say shadows are whispers of the past, simply bleeding out into the present. I've never believed the stories until the day everything changed. It was the day the shadows spoke.

I woke that day to a curious tingling in my fingertips almost as if I'd stuck them in an electrical socket for a millisecond. A thorough examination of the appendages shed no light on the subject and I shrugged and went on about my day.

Since I woke at the early hour of 6:00 A.M., the darkness still beat at my windowpanes. I flicked on my light, not noticing as it flickered and sent shadows dancing over my wall. The tingling sensation grew stronger but I thought nothing of it yet. It was as I was reaching for the shirt hanging up in my closet that my fingers passed through a shadow.

I froze. The tingling grew into a buzzing and raced throughout my body, gathering into a ball of energy that surged upwards into my eyes. Screaming, I yanked my hand away and held it close to my chest. A fading whisper echoed in my ear and I looked around for its source, but my search yielded nothing.

Eyes narrowed suspiciously, I slowly reached for the shirt again. As soon as my fingertips broached the darkness I found myself once again paralyzed. This time I fought not to pull away, straining to hear the whispering that danced at the edges of my mind. After a moment or two it seemed to realize that I wasn't going to leave and the shadow moved, shifted, and took form.

What was now standing before me was the shape of a young man. His hair had been curly; I could see it sticking out at jaunty angles all over his head and he was tall. My whole body had gone cold, but my right hand had fallen numb and I glanced down to ascertain the cause. His ghostly hand rested in my own and my head fell to the side, curiosity filling my gaze, then understanding.

"You... need contact", I whispered, looking at where I judged his face to be for confirmation.

Once, slowly, he nodded.

I cleared my throat and shifted my weight from foot to foot. The whispering in my head had stopped as soon as he had taken form. "Can you still speak?" I asked, hating the way my voice cracked in what could only be described as fear.

"I don't know. I never have before. Not in this form anyways." His voice was soft as the smoothest silk and it flowed into me like a river into the ocean. It was the most beautiful voice I'd ever heard, man or woman.

The words brought a slow grin to my face. "You can, I assure you. I hear you quite clearly. If you don't mind me asking... what exactly are you?" I knew I had to choose my words clearly. What was happening at this moment was still quite a mystery to me.

He paused and I could almost see him struggling with the words. "I am what you would call a shadow, I think. That's what your people call me, is it not? You humans. Always have to have a label for absolutely everything."

The way he said human worried me. It was almost as if he didn't consider himself to be one, and I suppose in a way he wasn't, but his shape was that of a typical man. "I'm sorry. I have... I have to go."

"No, wait!"

But it was too late. I'd curled my hand against my chest once more and my breath rattling in my chest. I had no words for what had just transpired and I was not eager to go through the experience again. Composing myself, I reached carefully around the shadow, grasping the shirt and yanking my sleep-shirt off and over my head. I finished my morning routine quickly, eager to be out of the house and utterly unaware that that wouldn't help me a bit.

The streetlamp outside provided me a safe circle of light and I took comfort in it as I waited for the train that would take me to the clinic where I had a menial job as an intern. It was nothing more than busywork, but it paid the bills and it was something I could take pleasure in doing. I thought nothing of reaching my hand out to hail a cab when it became obvious that the train was to be delayed. The walk back out to the main road had been short and well lit and I'd not encountered a shadow.

My hand flew into the darkness and I realized my mistake. A hand closed around my wrist with surprising force and I gasped. Admittedly, my heart was beginning to beat too rapidly to pass my emotions off as anything but fear and, despite the coolness of the morning, beads of sweat were forming upon my brow.

"You would do well to be more careful", said the voice in the dark and I couldn't help but relax. It was the boy from before and, for some reason, I felt as if he wouldn't hurt me.

I stepped back into the circle of light, feeling his grip tighten slightly so he wouldn't lose me. "And why's that?" I challenged.

He followed me, hesitating for a moment before being bathed in the yellow glow. "Not all have pasts as easy as mine, or at least, they don't handle it as well. Stay out of alleys where rogues often met their end."

"Why are you helping me? And how did you get here?" I asked, my curiosity far from sated.

He chuckled darkly and I can't say it didn't scare me a little. "Yours is the first living voice I've heard for nigh on a century and, though I do not understand how, I am not about to give that up. And as for how I arrived, you must do nothing more than look around. Darkness is my ally if it is not yours and I travel its pathways as easily as you walk a road." He fell silent and his hand released my wrist, almost instantly clapping onto my shoulder.

I could no longer feel him. It seemed that the other times I'd only noticed him since I could see his point of contact. Now that that was gone from my direct line of sight it was as if he was standing normally in front of me. My head turned and I caught a glimpse of his shadowy form clinging to my shoulder. Suddenly, I could feel him, as if it was a real person made of flesh and blood that now had me in its grasp.

Then I asked the question that had been at my lips from the first, but had only now worked up the courage to ask.

"Who are you?"

"Me? I am only a shadow." Then his hand slid from my shoulder and he vanished.


End file.
